


California Dreamin'

by birdcages7



Series: Tumblr Prompts/Shorts [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Descent into Madness, Dreams, Ghosts, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Past Abuse, Pining, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24698851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdcages7/pseuds/birdcages7
Summary: “If I die, I’m gonna haunt you.”Steve held onto the thick smoke in his mouth, three, four, five, before exhaling to the dark sky above, and turned his head towards Billy, both of them laying on the hood of Steve’s BMW this time. He handed over the ‘jazz cigarette’, as his father had once called it, and smiled as his head started to feel a little light at long last. Tommy had clearly given him all stems again, the fucker.“Yeah?”-Prompt #41: “If I die, I’m going to haunt you.”
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Tumblr Prompts/Shorts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1785595
Comments: 8
Kudos: 65





	California Dreamin'

1985 

“If I die, I’m gonna haunt you.”

Steve held onto the thick smoke in his mouth, _three, four, five_ , before exhaling to the dark sky above, and turned his head towards Billy, both of them laying on the hood of Steve’s BMW this time. He handed over the ‘jazz cigarette’, as his father had once called it, and smiled as his head started to feel a little light at long last. Tommy had clearly given him all stems again, the fucker.

“Yeah?” 

He watched Billy nod, one arm behind his head. Relaxed and at ease in the emptiness of the quarry under a star speckled sky. Watched him inhale slowly, savouring it or trying to get more of a buzz. Either one caused his cheeks to hollow ever so, caused his jaw to jut out and become sharper. “Yeah.” He said around a cloud. “Gonna make your life a living hell.”

“Don’t you already?” 

Steve _giggled_ when Billy poked him in the side with his knuckle. 

They shared the joint back and forth easily, it was far from the first time they’d come to the quarry late at night to just _be_. Be away from Steve’s empty house and away from Billy’s stifling one. Neither really knew when it started, it had just become a thing they did. Away from people who would disagree, away from staring eyes and gossipy lips. Of course in school they still acted like they hated each other, giving wide births in the hallway, only calling each other by their last names. But the quarry was different. It was almost sacred. No one around for miles on a map but being in it, surrounded by tall walls of rock and limestone, the world felt so much further away. 

This was their last night of both being high school kids. In the morning they both had summer jobs to start.

“So, is my little _sailor boy_ ever gonna come visit the pool?” Billy grinned. His eyes were a little glazed and starting to redden. Steve was sure his were too. Their hands finally met on the metal of the hood between their warm bodies, fingers knitting together so simply it was like they should never be apart.

“Only if you come visit the mall in those red shorts _Mr Lifeguard._ ” Steve knew that was entirely a possibility. Billy was just bold enough to do it. Especially if it would make Steve smile and lead to some _fun_ in the store room, which it definitely would.

What they were had never been defined. It didn’t feel like it had to be. It was comfortable and nice. And now that high school was done for Steve, well, maybe they wouldn’t need to hide in the quarry so much anymore. Maybe they could go to the movies or do something together. Steve shuffled closer and put his head on Billy’s shoulder, both of them staring up at the stars as the twinkled in the far off distance, he felt a well toned arm wrap itself around his waist, fingertips gently rubbing at a little patch of skin where his shirt had ridden up in the movement. A sense of just _good_ fell. Things were going to be good now. Steve had a plan to save money to move out, maybe see if he could retake the finals he failed after studying some more, really trying this time, give college applications another go. Billy was definitely college bound, the boy was brilliant under all that bravado and acting like he didn’t give a shit.

Things were looking good at last.

\---

1986 

Hawkins was bitterly cold. It always was in January. It hadn’t snowed in a few days but it was still thick on the ground, refusing to melt and making driving a real headache. It also meant work was slow. Money was thin after everyone’s holiday celebrations, no one had the spare cash to rent movies. If anything though, it was nice to get a break. The holidays were always busy. Keith was still an asshole though. He liked to hold meetings with his two most senior members of staff in the cramped back room which just smelt like cheeseballs and old sweat. Steve leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, not paying any attention to the dull noise that was leaving Keith’s mouth. It all just blended into one long monotone soup. Robin looked like she was paying attention a little, if only to make a jab that neither of them made his stupid employee of the month wall.

“Maybe you would if you stopped taking Twizzlers you would.”

In truth, Steve didn’t want to have his crappy polaroid put up on the crappy wall. All three of them knew it was just Keith’s wannabe hitlist, as if he had any hope at all with any of the part time girls that worked weekends during the store’s busiest times. Robin didn’t want to be up there either, not really, she just liked pointing out how dumb it was.

She stole a Red Vine from the jar on the counter the minute they were dismissed.

 _Scoops Ahoy_ felt like a lifetime ago, it was in many ways, but Robin was still Robin. She leant on the counter and pulled out a book from underneath, a well thumbed through copy of The Shining.

“Guess I’ll do the returns box then…” Steve muttered, reaching down to get it from its home by his feet. Robin smiled bright when he stood back straight.

“Aw, how did you guess?” Steve gave her a look and disappeared to the back of the store, way from the call of “ _Love you dingus!_ ” 

His knees clicked as he knelt on the door to organise the cases before racking them away, able to just be alone with his thoughts. It had been a hard Christmas. His parents had actually come home for once so he was forced to play nice happy family, pose for photographs with their friends at parties, pretend he was well put together and just taking a study break but would definitely be going to college soon, that he wasn’t a shell. 

Back in May, back at the quarry, December had seemed forever away. It _was_ forever away. Then Starcourt happened. Because of their jobs he and Billy didn’t have a lot of time to spend together. He didn’t notice what was happening. He should have noticed. He should have noticed that Billy was in a fucking full shirt. He should have done something, _anything_. Screamed and tried to just help somehow. But by the time it had escalated it was far too late. It hit him twice as hard and ate him alive everyday. The world was told the mall had burnt down, a simple electrical problem that thankfully happened while the premises was empty and no one got hurt. No one knew about the Russian base underneath, or the flesh monster inside, and the good ol’ US government was going to keep it that way.

Billy never had a funeral. The story weaved there was he died in a car crash speeding on the backroads. A whole song a dance was made about finding his car upside down in a ditch. It was devastating. He had died saving everyone, only to be made about to be a reckless idiot in his passing. It wasn’t even a believable lie. Billy loved that damn car, yeah he also liked to speed to show off how powerful it was, but he was a good driver. He didn’t like parking it too close to other cars in lots just in case it got scratched. There was no way he would just crash.

Steve had gone to their spot alone many times and smoked a cigarette, hurled rocks into the stagnant water, and cried in privacy. He had no real right to be sad. It wasn’t as if they were a real couple.

All of it had hit Max like a freight train, but she had the dweebs to pick her up and provide distraction. She had Steve to pick her up after school sometimes and just drive around listening to the radio in his car, go get a milkshake or something. She had Robin to a certain extent now too, who had taken an instant shine to the spunky redhead whenever she came into Family Video. Saw her as a potential protégé, whatever that meant. Steve distracted himself with cataloguing video tapes and pretending he was over it all. He was working his way down the horror section when a shadow was cast over his hunched up form. He sighed silently to himself and started to turn, ready to put on his best friendly, everything-is-alright-how-can-I-help-you smile, when he spotted Max’s sneakers, all drawn on in thick sharpie. Robin’s influence. He relaxed back and slid another case in its home.

“Everything okay?”

Steve knew the joke about how he was the dweeb gang’s surrogate mom. He wouldn’t be surprised if they got him a mother’s day card this year. It wasn’t his fault he cared.

“Yeah. I got you something from Boston.”

Steve sat back on his haunches to look up at Max properly this time. She was chewing on a Twizzler and wearing Billy’s jacket, the denim one. The story went she ripped it out of a box meant for the trash and screamed and _screamed_ until she was allowed to keep it, knowing neither of her parents would really argue too hard if she was loud enough for the neighbours to hear. It was far too big for her still, too wide at the shoulders, too long in length, but not by much anymore. She wore it with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, had sown a Wonder Woman patch on one pocket, stabbed the other with badges and safety pins. It wasn’t at all appropriate for the weather outside. She slung her school bag to the floor and took out a small stuffed lobster with hard plastic eyes, and ‘Boston’ stitched into a claw. Steve chuckled taking it. It was furry in that mass produced way. 

“Thanks! How was it then?” Apparently it had been Susan’s idea for them to go to Boston for the holidays, reconnect as a family with some of her relatives up there, forget what had happened during the year. Max had hated the idea but was still too young to have a choice.

“Terrible. The city’s kinda nice though. Food was good. Woulda had fun with better company,” she spoke with a smile but her toes were starting to rub together. She put her backpack back on and shoved her hands in her pockets. She was stalling. “I, uh…” 

Steve gave her space to talk. He knew it wasn’t a _girl issue_ or she would have gone to Robin, judging by the Twizzler she probably did but Steve knew what he meant. Max swallowed and handed over a small box, wrapped in candy cane paper held down with far too much tape.

“It arrived before we left. He would have wanted you to have it.” Her voice was small and sad. Steve rolled the box carefully in his hands before the words really sunk in. He looked back up at her confused for a moment, asking a silent question that Max knew the answer too. “You guys weren’t as subtle as you thought you were.” She reached out and ruffled his hair, just a little, a smile on her face again. “Happy no longer Christmas dingus.”

Max turned and left the store, waving to the front counter as she went. Robin no doubt waved back even though Steve couldn’t see her. He rolled the box one more time before shoving it deep into his vest pocket, trying to ignore the weight of it and the curiosity until he got home that night, to deal with whatever was inside alone. It could have been anything, but it felt important for Max to have taken the time to wrap it nice as she did. 

He didn’t even make it off his driveway, after dropping Robin home, before he couldn’t bear not knowing anymore. He tore roughly at the paper thanks to all the tape, it fell away in undelicate lumps, and felt his eyes start to fill looking at what was inside.

Billy’s pendant. The one he wore every single day. The one he died in. All shiny and clean like nothing had happened. Steve took it out gently, letting the box fall forgotten between his knees and the balls of paper and tape, laying it flat on his palm. There was nothing really special about it in passing, it was just a gold pendant on a gold chain. It wasn’t that heavy physically, but mentally it was boulder. Steve sniffed away tears, rubbed at his eyes harshly. He’d told himself months ago he was done crying, done being sad and stuck in the past when everyone else was moving on. He and Robin only called each other less than once a month now in the middle of the night, just talking through their Russian based torture trauma nightmares. Before it had been almost daily. But this, just seeing it shine in the last of the setting sunlight, it picked open old scars. Left him feeling raw inside all over again.

_He would have wanted you to have it._

Steve unclipped the small clasp and put it on, checking how it looked in his rearview mirror. It sat a little higher than it did on Billy, but not by much. It didn’t look nearly as powerful on his thinner frame. He sighed softly and tucked it under his shirt, the cold metal stuck to his skin through his chest hair almost instantly. After a while of just eating dinner and watching tv and doing basic chores, Steve forgot he was wearing it. It felt comfortable, like there was nothing there at all.

He wore it to bed.

Usually Steve was a terrible sleeper, frankly he thought after everything that had happened to him in the past few years, he had every right to be. Even though everything felt over for good this time he still kept the nail bat under his bed. Just in case. He must have just been more tired than he thought because he was out almost instantly. But he felt warm. Not a middle of summer, sweaty and sticky and gross warm, but like he was being held. All night long. Curled up like a cat in sunshine on a window ledge even though it was below freezing outside. He slept better than he had in months.

The same happened the next night too. And the next. For a week straight. Even Robin remarked that he didn’t look like complete shit for once when he picked her up for their shifts together. He still wore the pendant under his shirts. Hadn’t taken it off once. He even wore it in the shower every night even though he knew that would do something to the metal eventually. It was just, nice.

Billy was gone. He had accepted that, or at least tried too without a proper goodbye. He had thought over and over about what he should have said during their times at the quarry together. It haunted him. If he had the ability he would go back, ask Billy to go to the movies or just go on a drive to the new fast food place three towns over that did burgers with cheese _in_ the meat. Just, something that had meaning and definition. Wasn’t just a vague _maybe_. He sometimes just wanted to hold Billy’s hand in public, let the world see and not give a damn what anyone else would think because they were both happy. And now he’d never get the chance. The guilt and self hatred and the never knowing was a lot to get over.

\---

Steve opened his eyes to a house he didn’t recognise. It was small, wooden cladded in white planks with a slim porch and a set of stairs out front. A pathway lined with white flowers all the way down to a white fence. A small pale yellow VW bug was parked in the driveway. Steve frowned to himself and looked around. It was definitely a neighbourhood he didn’t recognise either, but the other houses weren’t as solid. They were blurry around the edges and all the same grey colour, not brilliant white like the one in front of him. Music drifted from the house through an open window. _Here Comes the Sun_ by the Beatles. Voices followed, singing. Happy sounding. Steve was looking through before he could stop himself. It was a kitchen window. A woman in a white dress that floated around her calves was dancing gently, going from barefoot to barefoot, long blonde hair at the middle of her spine kept back with a hair tie. She was standing over the stove, stirring a pot. Steve couldn’t see what it was but it smelt delicious in a way it was obvious he lived off frozen pizzas these days. Next to her, on a stool in front of the sink, was a boy. No older than six by best guess. Nodding his head to the music, elbow deep in fluffy bubbles, cleaning a small plate before setting it in the drying rack after a careful inspection. Doing the same with a bowl and a spoon. The woman turned on her heel to rub through his short, barely there curls. He grinned wide, missing two teeth, and ate up her affection. That grin was unmistakable though. Steve could be completely blind and still recognise it in pitch black of night.

 _Billy_.

This was Billy’s house. It had to be. Steve felt his heart lurch into his throat. Why could he see all this? Why was he stood peeping? Why couldn’t he move away? His feet weren’t tied to the floor by any means, but it felt like they were. He was a statue. Billy had never spoken about his mom during their times together. Steve complained about his parents all the time like the spoilt brat he was sometimes. Billy only ever listened.

“Thank you, my big strong man,” the woman, _Billy’s mom?_ , spoke with a voice as sweet as fresh honey. Her blue eyes glanced up towards a clock on the wall nervously before she took her necklace off and put it on her son, started drying his hands with a towel printed with sunflowers. The pendant. Steve touched over it on his chest. It was still there. Still felt real and cold. All of this felt far too real. It was like being in the middle of a high school show. “Now, you go play in your room for a bit, okay? I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”

Steve watched as Billy kissed his mom’s cheek with a small nod and wandered with determination to the back of the house. Through another window he could see Billy’s room. Bed perfectly made in sheets printed with clouds, headboard covered in small stickers from gumball machines, a low bookcase filled to overflow. The walls were blue. A small radio on the nightstand crackled to life when Billy turned it on and buried his head into a book from under his pillow. Steve frowned a little until the low rumble of a car engine coming to a stop came clearly from the front of the house. Billy hummed hard along to the music and turned the radio up until the noise was all consuming in the room, put his nose closer to the pages of the book until it became like a blindfold. Steve could hear what was happening in the other room though. The sharp slap and desperate whimpers, thuds and scrapes of furniture being dragged across the floor. Screams. The heart that was heavy in his throat tore in two. Billy rubbed over his pendant and Steve found himself doing exactly the same. He wanted so badly to reach out, to try and help, to try and stop all this. But he was frozen. Just a witness to this slice of life. Steve was sure it was real, it had to be. Maybe it was a memory somehow, it felt so much more than just a dream. Especially any one that he’d had before. It felt solid even though he couldn’t move to touch anything before him. He couldn’t even speak. He tried but his mouth just opened and closed like a goldfish.

Billy suddenly moved. Footsteps had started barrelling down the wooden floor of the hallway. He dived under his bed, book long forgotten. Warmth started to envelope Steve around his chest, pulling as the door was slammed open by a man with no face but great big hands. The scene started to turn grey and blurry and slip away, unreachable, unseeable, unsaveable...

Until Steve awoke in his bed, panting hard and sweating like he’d been doing circuit training in the gymnasium again, staring at his white popcorn ceiling. He had a hand over his pounding heart, over the pendant that lay flat and cool on his chest as his chest heaved. 

The alarm on his nightstand went off two minutes later.

The memory of it all followed him all day, distracted him enough that even Robin was done with his shit and left him be when he refused to talk about it. How could he even try to explain it? He was definitely going insane. Who dreams about their dead, not boyfriend’s childhood abuse? Maybe the Russian had got to him after all, maybe it was a sleeper drug that was still in his system, maybe he was going to become an unwilling spy. A zombie for the Reds. 

He was terrified to sleep again, forcing himself to stay awake watching tv. Drinking endless glasses of water just so he’d have to get up and pee every hour or so. Eventually though he ever so slowly succumbed to his couch’s comfortable pillows and scratchy throw blanket for just a minute, maybe two, in the early hours of the morning. The warm feeling immediately wrapped him up tight and pulled down hard.

It was the same house, but it was different. The flowers out front had died. The VW bug was gone. There was no music coming from the open window. No nice smell. There was a ‘For Sale’ sign in the lawn. Steve could move this time. It didn’t feel like he was stepping on anything as he walked closer, peered through what was Billy’s window last time. The walls were still blue but now covered in posters ripped from magazines. The bed was unmade with white sheets. The book shelf was broken and held up with plastic bottle crates, most of the books were missing. There was a mirror in the corner with a crack along the bottom where it looked like it had been kicked. There was a hole in the wall by the door, where it had clearly been forced open hard so many times the handle had broken through the plaster board. The radio was held together with a thick layer of silver duct tape. But it was empty. Steve felt that warmth pull him around to the back of the house, to a part which he didn’t see before. There was a well worn path in the grass leading down to a beach that seemed to stretch miles wide. The white sand stayed solid when Steve stepped on it, leaving no footprints where they should have been. He was just a visitor.

Towards the water a figure was sat, hunched up into a ball. Steve blinked and he was sat next to him in the sand, still not leaving an impression still. The boy’s knees were pulled up to his chest, arms crossed over the top and face hidden in the cavern between. Billy. He must have been about 13. His hair was a little longer, curls more defined, but nothing like the mullet Steve knew and liked to run his fingers through. Billy was crying, well, trying not to cry. Breathing hard and angry and sniffing. His hands making tight fists on his knees. Steve tried to reach out and touch, comfort, anything as his heart pounded so hard in his chest he could swear it would be audible against his ribcage, but his hand went straight through. Billy raised his head and put his chin on his arms. He had a shaved slit in his eyebrow above an eye that was clearly going to bloom into a horrific bruise, it was already tinting yellow. There was a thin trail of dried blood down the side of his neck, coming from his earlobe that had been patched with a bandaid. It didn’t look like Billy’s signature hoop was under it. At least not anymore. His hands shook as he lit a cigarette and sucked hard like his life depended on it, staring out at the ocean just rolling calmly in and out. Billy’s watery eyes reflected it. There was a sore red ring around his elbow, like someone had grabbed and squeezed far too hard for far too long. The pendant hung a little off his slim chest, covered by a dirty white tank top, glinting in the sunlight.

Steve felt helpless. There was nothing he could do. Nothing he could say. He was just stuck being an observer and he hated it. It went against his motherly instincts, as much as he hated to admit that’s what it was. But even if he could, he wouldn’t know what to say. What do you say to someone that you miss every single day without fault? That you wish you could have spent more time with, just one more day filled with talking and laughter, with smoking and kisses and messy blow jobs in the backs of each other’s cars. One more day to finally say how you actually fucking feel instead of being afraid of a wider opinion.

The tide started to draw in towards both of their feet, storm clouds started to gather overhead. A bellowing voice came from the direction of the house but Billy didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch. Just flicked the cigarette half smoked into the ocean and started to get to his feet tiredly. Defeated. Steve was stuck in the sand like it was glue. Could only watch as the bellow rang out again, as Billy hung his head and went back towards the house. Steve desperately tried to fight, tried to reach out, tried to do anything at all to stop what was clearly about to happen again when the warmth came back and held onto him tight. Squeezed around his shoulders and his chest, clamping his arms to his sides.

_No. No please let me help. I can help, please!_

It pulled him backwards, into the sand that sunk around his vision, until the sky above was a decreasing dot. And then he was alone, mid-scream, still on his couch in the den, dull midwinter sunlight pouring through the window where he’d forgotten to draw the blinds the night before. He rubbed at his chest where he’d felt the warmth, panting so hard it hurt his lungs. The pendant was cold.

The phone rang sharp and piercing from the kitchen, shocking him back to reality. Steve scrambled up to get it on very unsteady legs, like a newborn deer. _Bambi_. It was Robin, asking why he didn’t pick her up and she had to get a ride with a weird neighbour kid who smelt like cabbage and clearly had a crush on her.

“Like, if you’re sick that’s cool, but, let me know at least?” Steve closed his eyes and rested his pounding head on the doorframe. The wood was cool underneath his skin. He stroked it softly with his bare hand, just to feel something real, something he could interact with again. “I told Keith you had the flu so he doesn’t write you up too bad.”

“Thanks,” was all he could say and even then it sounded wrong. His voice sounded broken and dull. Like he was about to cry, but he didn’t feel tears on his cheeks, or even that he wanted to just break down on the floor next to the refrigerator. Maybe he did just a little.

“Jesus, are you actually sick? You sound it.” Steve could picture Robin clear as day using the phone that lived just under their counter next to the register, probably twirling a Twizzler between her fingers like a pen, or actively ignoring a line of customers to talk to him because he was more important than some fifteen year olds trying to sneak into the adults only section to gawk. She was definitely actively ignoring Keith and his drone like voice. But Steve didn’t have an answer to her question. He didn’t feel sick physically. He’d eaten last night, wasn’t sore anywhere. But mentally...

“I don’t know.”

There was a pause. Steve could hear the wheels turning through the phone chord. “Oh what was that Steve? Yeah I can come round and take care of you, I’ll leave right now. Place is dead anyway. Sorry Keith I gotta go, it’s a total emergency-”

Steve opened his mouth to stop her, he would be fine eventually, but the phone was already dead. He sighed and tried to pull himself together, step away from the fridge and stop stroking the wall. Try to think of how to explain what the hell was happening to him when he fell asleep. At least go and put a shirt on that wasn’t soaked with night sweat.

Robin didn’t have any answers when she turned up with a bag of greasy fast food from the place across the street from Family Video. The place that did curly cheese fries and were very generous with their portions. Even when Steve explained his weird dreams and the warm feeling that seemed to _cuddle_ him every night and push and pull him around these weird plays he had to witness as clearly and as simply as he could. All she could confirm for sure was that it didn’t sound like any strange Russian side effects, or she’d be feeling them too. And she definitely would have told him if they were. 

Steve wasn’t sure if that was a comfort or not.

They stayed together until nearly midnight, when Robin had to leave or be in real shit with her mom for breaking curfew.

“Midnight is a _reasonable_ curfew asshole, she just wants to know I get home alright.” 

Steve stayed up later still, sat on the living room floor surrounded by a small amount of trash from the day. He pulled the pendant out of his shirt to look at. It hadn’t changed. It still felt cold. He wasn’t sure why he expected it to look different at all. Like maybe with each dream he had a small part would fall away, or it would melt into a different shape. Or even turn into a compass to guide him or something. Maybe help him.

“Why?” he muttered to it, staring, hoping for some kind of answer. He sighed when of course the inanimate object didn’t respond. Or change shape. Or do anything but stay solid between his fingertips. Dragging a hand through his hair, he gave up trying to stay awake, and went to his room to sleep.

His head hadn’t even hit the pillow and he was awake again. He was at the quarry. He could feel the chill in the air, the small breeze that gathered in the hollow of the rocks. He could smell the stagnant water. The sky above was dark, but the stars looked brighter than they’d ever looked before. He was lying on the hood of his BMW. The metal was smooth under his fingers, holding onto a trace of warmth from the engine. Steve hadn’t come here in months, on the day he decided to try and get over Starcourt and the monsters and the nightmares that had started to fade away. It was comforting to be back though, in a weird way. He closed his eyes and breathed in the cold night air, enjoying the quiet, the far off chirping of bugs.

“Hey pretty boy.”

Steve’s eyes snapped open faster than they’d ever done before. His heart both leaped into his throat and sank to the pit of his stomach as he turned his head to see that smile he missed so fucking much it made his soul ache. _His_ Billy. The right age this time. Exactly how he looked their last night together. Right where they were now. Stupid, but kind of hot, dangly earring and everything. He jumped up easily to sit in his spot on the hood and reached out to cup Steve’s cheek. It didn’t have its usual roughness, it was just smooth and warm. It spread through Steve like gold. Billy thumbed at a tear rolling down his cheek Steve wasn’t even aware he’d shed.

“Said I was gonna haunt you, didn’t I?”

Shakily, Steve raised his hand to touch Billy’s arm. Felt overwhelming relief when he could, but it was dampened when he couldn’t feel anything. It was like his hands were suddenly numb. But Billy still felt solid and real. That was a start. It was better than anything he’d had for almost a year. He was terrified to test his voice, god only knew what it would sound like, so he threw himself into Billy’s arms, wrapping himself tight around the thicker frame. Billy chuckled affectionately next to his ear and held Steve in return. The warmth that spread through his chest was the same it had been every other night but so much better, stronger and here.

But no matter how real it felt, Steve knew it wasn’t. There was no way this was real, that any of this was real. He’d watched Billy die. He saw it again and again in his dreams for months after it happened. In no time at all he’d wake up in his bed back in Hawkins, cold and alone. Billy would still be dead. Everything would carry on going. This felt like a second chance somehow, by some weird miracle that this was even happening at all.

“I miss you,” he managed to croak out. It was a horrific noise to his own ears but he had his face pressed into the side of Billy’s neck. There were worse places he could be having a mental collapse. 

“I miss you too.”

They stayed just a tangle of limbs for a long time, but the moon didn’t roll across the sky so it was hard to judge just how much time had passed exactly. Billy moved first, laying back on the windshield and gently pulling Steve down to rest on his shoulder, curling an arm around the taller man’s waist, fingertips rubbing at skin where his shirt had ridden up. The stars twinkled gently. He felt at peace for the first time in god knows how long.

“So, what happened?” Billy asked calmly, trying not to disrupt the moment.

 _Oh_. 

Steve moved his head, just a little, to look up at him, still strong jawed and staring up at the sky. Still just as handsome as Steve remembered. He thought of where to start. What Billy didn’t know. The Russians? The cover ups? The conspiracies? The Upside Down in general? Steve had talked about the monsters in the dark before he was sure, maybe not to the extent and detail which Billy deserved but it was hard to explain why you drove around with a nail bat if you weren’t going off to commit serious crimes.

“Everyone’s okay.” That seemed like a good place to start. Billy turned his head and smiled into Steve brunette mane.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Max has gotten taller too. She’s almost your height now.”

He felt a chuckle ripple through his hair. “Really? That little twerp... Is… is she okay?...”

Steve started rubbing Billy’s arm around him as it tensed up protectively. He didn’t have to finish the sentence. Steve knew what he was implying. It was as clear as the stars above them.

“She’s okay. She comes to hang out at work sometimes. She wears your jacket like it's a badge of honor or something. We… I brought her here a few times after... everything. Just, sat in my car and listened to that stupid Scorpions song you like and let her cry away from the dweebs. I think it helped.”

Steve felt warmth radiate from a small spot on his head. A kiss maybe? He glowed like it was. The tension in Billy’s arm faded. The spot on his hip Billy was stroking was getting hot with all the attention.

“You’re a real mother hen baby, you know that?”

 _Baby…_ God it had been a while since he was called that.

Steve shrugged and turned, pressed himself up against Billy’s strong side, put an arm over his chest, thumbed lazily at the pendant that lay between the material of his open shirt. Where it should be. “Someone has to keep these kids in line. You’ve seen what they can do even when supervised.” 

He bit his bottom lip in thought though. Where do you even start when given a second chance, if this was even a second chance at all and not just a weird hallucination like Steve was sure it was. Maybe his brain was shutting down, maybe he was dying. Robin had told him that once, that how people saw heaven was just their brains pumping out tonnes of feel good chemicals to try and keep their bodies from turning off. Steve didn’t think the quarry would be his version of heaven, but it made sense when he thought about it for more than two seconds. It was one of the last places he was truly happy.

“You’re thinking real loud down there,” Billy joked, more relaxed and at ease than Steve had ever seen him before. Maybe this was heaven. Maybe fluffy clouds and pretty angels were all a lie. Maybe heaven was just where you were most at peace.

“It’s just… there’s a lot. There’s a lot I wanna ask and say but I don’t know where to start.” Steve raised himself up on his hands. Billy smiled up, it was one he’d never seen before. _Contentment_. It suited him. Steve felt himself tear apart and knit back together all at the same time. _This wasn’t real_ . It couldn’t be. It was _impossible_ that any of this was real. But Steve was so desperate to believe just anything, the smallest crumb of a chance at happiness and peace again. One more chance with the boy he was so hopelessly in love with but never said out of a stupid fear of being judged by the wider world.

So he closed his eyes and blurted out “Do you wanna go to the movies on Friday?”

Billy was looking at him weirdly when he chanced a glance again, thick eyebrows stitched together in a hard line but eyes almost sad. So Steve carried on talking. Trying to dig himself out of the hole he’d put himself in.

“I’m sorry. That was really stupid. Cause like, obviously, it’s not gonna happen. But I wish it was and I wish it was something that we had done just once even if we had to sit two seats apart from each other at a matinee-”

“What’s playing?”

That took Steve aback slightly and the excuse he had started to form in his head melted away. “Uh, I think they’re still playing Clue, maybe?”

Billy looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding once. “Clue. Alright. Only if you get the popcorn cause, you know, you’re loaded and have a physical form and everything.”

A million more questions started to pile up because none of this made any sense, but Steve was just gently pulled back down onto his spot, back into ignorance as his mind went quiet. The warmth under his head spread throughout his body and he closed his eyes to enjoy it. Billy’s hand was hot on his skin. It was nice.

When he opened them again he was in his bed. His body still felt warm apart from where the pendant lay high on his shoulder. The hot spot faded from his hip. He stayed laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling and its light fixture, long after the alarm on his nightstand stopped ringing, just recalling it all to make sure there was nothing he missed.

Did he really have a date with a ghost?

\---

The movie theatre was close to Family Video. Robin didn’t ask when he explained he couldn’t drop her home after their shift. She just eyed him suspiciously and shrugged before using the phone to call Cabbage Boy for a ride.

“I can tell he’s into me. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Steve changed out of his uniform in the back room, slipped on a pale blue polo, fluffed his hair up a little before reminding himself that this was ridiculous. Nothing was going to happen. He was going to the movies _alone_ , on a Friday night, to be surrounded by other couples all because he’d asked a ghost or hallucination or a memory or whatever Billy was to him now out on a date. Crossing the street he knew nothing was going to happen, even buying a small bucket of popcorn and the ticket he knew nothing was going to happen. He was just going to sit in the back corner, trying to hide in the shadows of how lonely he was to even _entertain_ that anything was going to happen. 

The floor was sticky under his feet. It always was. The folding chair creaked as he pushed it down to sit. This was ridiculous. He didn’t even want to see this movie. It was about a board game for crying out loud, it was going to be terrible. A few couples started to come in and find their seats, holding hands and trying to find a good spot to _canoodle_ undisturbed. The seat next to him stayed empty. Steve sighed as the lights went down and a couple of trailers for other movies started playing. He munched on a handful of popcorn. May as well, he’d paid for it after all. It was only when the movie was about to begin that the seat next to him creaked down slowly.

Like someone was sat on it.

Steve froze and stared wide eyed, his hand still greasy from butter.

_No way…_

He felt something warm and heavy loop around his shoulders, his free hand being moved to the armrest between the two chairs. The warmth became firm, felt like thick fingers, as it made its way between his, laying flat on Steve’s palm. Steve flexed his hand a little. He couldn’t move it past the shape of a hand, like he was actually holding something. He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t cry. Not in public. Not again. Felt something hot brush his cheek that made him blush in the dark. It felt like a kiss. It felt like Billy’s kiss, the ones that made his skin glow because they were small but meaningful. The ones Steve got if he got a B on an english paper after stuggling with it for weeks. If this was what madness was Steve wanted to be dragged under by it, completely succumb and drown in it over and over again. His heart hammered but he felt strangely calm. He glanced around when he heard Billy’s words smooth in his ear.

“Sorry I’m late.”

Steve had definitely heard them. It wasn't in the movie. It wasn’t the people in the few rows ahead. It wasn’t anyone that had just come through the door next to him.

He didn’t feel like he was drowning. This was really happening.

“It’s okay,” Steve whispered to the empty space next to him, completely giving up trying to rationalise what the hell was happening to him anymore, where he was sure Billy could see him with how cold the pendant felt under his shirt. Even if he couldn’t see those ocean blues in return, Steve knew they were there. Warm and inviting. “I’m just happy you’re here.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr page.](https://bird-in-a-cage.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [Come suggest a prompt!](https://bird-in-a-cage.tumblr.com/post/620226201306513408/fanfic-prompt-list/)


End file.
